


Things get a bit hairy.

by BarPurple



Series: Sherlolly Against the World [15]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hair Kink, Haircuts, Kissing, Sherlock's Hair, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock discovers a skill of Molly's that he wants to take advantage of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things get a bit hairy.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



“Sit still Sherlock.”

Sherlock Holmes had been beaten, shot, stabbed and burned in the course of his life, but at this moment he could recall no greater pain. 

_“Drama Queen,” supplied Mind Palace John._

Possibly, but having to sit still while Molly worked the chewing gum from his hair was torture. What sort of vile person mashed gum into their opponent’s hair during a fist fight? There must be a circle of Hell reserved for such despicable creatures. Molly’s voice roused him his musing.

“Okay that’s most of it out. There’s just a little left that I’m going to have to cut out.”

Sherlock leapt to his feet so face the stool he was sitting on toppled backwards and crashed to the floor next to Molly. The sound echoed around her flat and roused Toby from his perch on the sofa back.

“I can get my barber to do that for me.”

Molly sighed and shook her head.

“Remind me why you are here instead of getting you barber to do all of this for you.”

Sherlock righted the stool and sat back down, an air of defeated resignation in every movement.

“It’s four in the morning and my barber doesn’t open until ten.”

Molly had retrieved a professional looking pair of scissors from the sideboard in her living room and smiled at him.

“It’s a just a bit the size of my little finger nail. If it makes you feel better I learnt how to cut hair in college, I still do some of my friends and my own.”

Sherlock gave a nod and sat stock still as she trimmed the last bit of gum from his hair. A few extra snips levelled everything up and before he knew it Molly was brushing stray hairs from his shirt. He stood up and gazed critically into the mirror. He was impressed.

“Molly, this is great. Why did you learn to cut hair?”

“Hum? Oh it was an extracurricular option at college. It was that or sport and I am natural spectator, so hair dressing it was. I find it quite relaxing actually.”

“I’m glad.”

Sherlock gave her a peck on the cheek in thanks and disappeared into London’s early morning gloom.

 

Molly didn’t give the incident another thought until a three weeks or so later. She may have noticed that Sherlock’s hair was looking shaggier than usual. Okay, of course she’d noticed, but there was something rather attractive about those untamed curls being on the longer side. Especially the oh so cute ones that sat at the nape of his neck and looked oh so very soft as he bent over the microscope at the lab.

Hum. Yes. Well. Okay! Molly had a thing for Sherlock’s hair. She seriously doubted that she was the only person in the vicinity of the consulting detective that had lost a few moments speculating about how those curls would feel under their fingers. 

“Molly.”

She felt her traitorous blood rush to her face as Sherlock spoke her name.

“What Sherlock?”

“Would you cut my hair for me tonight, please?”

Oh my god! He’s been reading my mind and knows about my thing for his curls. Oh damn … hang on, what was that?

“You want me to cut your hair? Sherlock you have a barber, who does a brilliant job on your hair. Why would you want me to do it for you?”

“You did a great job with the chewing gum incident and you said you find cutting hair relaxing. I thought it might be nice to have you cut it rather than have to cope with a barbershop full of idiots.”

Molly twisted her hands in the hem of her jumper. 

“What if I mess up your beautiful curls?”

Sherlock tilted his head slightly, a shy smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“You think my curls are beautiful?”

Molly gulped and prayed for her living room floor to open up and swallow her whole. How many new ways would she find to embarrass herself in front of this man? She jumped a little as Sherlock’s long fingers caught her chin and raised her head. 

“I hate my hair Molly. It’s impossible to control; if it’s not frizzing up because of the humidity, it’s tangled into impossible knots; and it’s the most boring dull colour. I wish it was more like yours.”

Molly’s eyes were wide; she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could Sherlock not like his hair? How could his want to exchange his raven curls for her mousey waves? It was a good thing her eyes couldn’t open any wider, because her eyeballs would have fallen to the floor as she felt Sherlock’s fingers tentatively stroke the lock of hair that hung by her face.

“Your colour is so warm and alive. Your hair always looks so strong and...”

Sherlock trailed off and licked his lips nervously. He didn’t move as Molly’s hand reached into his own hair. He was suddenly very aware of how little distance separated their faces. He knew that she felt the sigh that escaped his mouth on her face as her fingers wound themselves into the curls above his ear. 

“Your hair is perfect for you. All coiled tension and wild tangles, oh and it’s as soft as it looks.”

He shuddered as her little finger grazed the top of his ear and she almost pulled away, but then she saw his pupils dilate and found the courage to slip her other hand to the back of his neck to finally touch the tempting curls there. The twists of hair felt even better than they looked, even better than she’d ever imagined.

“I daren’t cut your hair in case I butcher it.”

The air between them was thick with potential. Sherlock didn’t want this moment to end, but the same thought was urging him forward. His voice came out deep and low as he said;

“I’ve trusted you with my life Molly. I know you can handle my hair.”

The fingers toying with her hair moved in towards her scalp as he closed the distance between their lips. Molly flowed into him and caused him to shiver with desire as her fingers tightened in his curls. Part of his mind noted that his hair would be a tangled mess, but the voice fell silent as he began carding his fingers through the length of her pony tail. 

Their lips had been pressed together in a still, chaste kiss, but by some unspoken agreement they began to move against each other. The slow gentle kiss was wonderful but it took second place to the sensual feeling of Molly’s hair in his hands and her delicate small hands caressing his curls. 

Molly staggered forward a step as suddenly Sherlock moved away from her. Panic didn’t have a chance to take hold as he was back in an instant pressing her hairdressing scissors into her hand.

“Please?”

Not trusting her voice Molly nodded her head.

 

It was the longest haircut Sherlock had ever had. The sweet torture of having Molly’s fingers in his hair as she snipped his overgrown curls back into order was deliciously agonising. He recorded each brush of her fingertips; each puff of breath across the nape of his neck and every tiny sound she made as she worked. Even the sinful groan that escaped his own throat when her ponytail dragged across his arm was catalogued and kept. Finally she stepped back and put the scissors down on the coffee table. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she scrutinised her handiwork. She nodded towards the mirror.

“How’s that for you?”

Looking in the mirror would involve standing up and Sherlock’s legs informed him that they were in no fit state to attempt such an exercise. So he tugged Molly in to his lap and grinned at the little yelping sound she made.

“I’ll look later. I want to thank you.”

Sherlock’s thanks were delivered in the form of one of the most mind blowing kisses Molly had ever experienced. She was panting for breath when he finally relinquished her lips.

“Is this how you always thank your barber?”

“It is from now on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this headcannon
> 
> http://mizjoely.tumblr.com/post/95384042807/sherlolly-headcanon
> 
> The title is awful, sorry.


End file.
